Outcasts by Alan Janney Page B

a pair of jeans from my duffle and tugged them on over my shorts. My red bandana partially pulled out from a side compartment. Should I put it on? I felt exposed without it, especially in a helicopter.
    Samantha glared down at the rotating earth. “We’re going to Los Alamitos.”
    “Where?”
    “Los Alamitos, the Joint Forces base in Orange County.”
    Anderson covered the receiver and said, “Bingo. You’ll be safe there. I know a guy.”
    We thundered straight towards a broad emptiness in the suburbs of eastern Los Angeles, a brown expanse of runway strips and military housing. The Los Alamitos campus was enormous and ugly. “It’s perfect,” Samantha observed.
    “The whole world is wondering where this Black Hawk is going. Including my supervisors. And I’m not telling them. And these guys,” Anderson jerked a thumb at the quiet agent with an assault rifle and at the pilot, “aren’t spilling. The secret will get out soon, but I think we’ve bought a few hours. Maybe even a day or two.”
    “Perfect,” I said. “Anderson, we owe you.”
    “Hell yeah you do. But we gotta hammer out a plan of attack. And soon.”
    I asked, “The Chemist is in Los Angeles?”
    “He was last night,” Anderson nodded.
    Samantha frowned and said, “How do you know?”
    “He freed Tank Ware from prison.”
    Samantha swore and punched the metal fuselage so hard her fist left an imprint. “I knew I should have ended that ape when I had the chance.”
    Katie’s voice was quiet. “Where’d he go?”
    Anderson held up his palms. “Out to sea. That’s all we know. But he can’t stay hidden long.”
    He appeared exhausted. I’d been so caught up in my own struggles I failed to notice his. His eyes were red, framed by dark circles, and he needed a shave. Katie noticed too. She squeezed Isaac’s hand and said, “Have you heard from Natalie?”
    He tried to smile but couldn’t. “No. Not since the Downtown takeover. Teresa Triplett mentions her in the Chemist blog now and then, so I know she’s alive.”
    Katie nodded sympathetically. “I read the updates. I met Natalie North once, did you know?”
    “I didn’t.” He grinned, genuinely this time. “I haven’t told anyone we’re together. It’s a hard secret to keep, because I’m so proud of her.”
    I said, “That settles it. That’s the plan. We’re going after the Chemist. And we’re going after Natalie.”
    “That’s always been the plan. Not working so far.”
    I said grimly, “This time is different.”
    “How so?”
    “I don’t have homework or English class. Samantha and I are going in and we’re not coming out unless we’ve got his head.”
    Samantha pumped her fist, a small but fierce motion. “That plan makes me so happy I could cry.”
    We landed on the far side of a hot Los Alamitos tarmac, away from prying eyes. The four of us hopped off and Mike Matthews launched the Black Hawk into the firmament again. Anderson got behind the wheel of a waiting jeep and we climbed in.
    He explained in the sudden silence, “I’m working with a small group of trusted individuals. Influential members inside all branches of intelligence, military, and law enforcement. We call ourselves the Resistance, and our main goal is to provide resources to our Hyper Human allies. With the military and governmental infighting, we don’t advertise our existence. One of the Resistance is a colonel here. He allocated this jeep for us and a place to stash you.” He ground the gears and gunned the gas, and we lurched down the runway. Like every nearby base, Los Alamitos bore scars from a recent Chemist rampage. This airfield was still being repaired so larger fixed-wings could land. We rolled through a graveyard of scorch marks.
    I said, “I’m not crazy about being stashed .”
    “Me either,” Samantha announced. “Infected are incapable of being stashed. We’ll go crazy.”
    Anderson grumbled, “Just trying to keep you three alive. There’s only so much